


The Food of Love

by braille_upon_my_skin



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: M/M, Soulmates AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 11:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13739829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braille_upon_my_skin/pseuds/braille_upon_my_skin
Summary: The first time a note of music graces someone's ears, is when they discover the other half of their soul.It should come as no surprise, then, that at the first show after they've moved into the tents, while his gaze is fixed on P.T. Barnum, Phillip Carlyle hearsmusicfor the first time in his life.





	The Food of Love

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by yet another [Tumblr prompt](http://queen-of-the-merry-men.tumblr.com/post/149905894753/ive-seen-a-lot-of-au-prompts-about-worlds-where). I thought it seemed very fitting for these two.
> 
> I also wanted to add that I made some edits to [_feel the feeling taking over_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13683426), so if you noticed the word count of that fic jumping up, that would be why.

 

 

_The first time a note of music graces someone's ears, is when they discover the other half of their soul._

 

* * *

 

"If only the bank would take joy as collateral."

Hearing the wistfulness, the _resignation_ punctuating Barnum's words, facing the grand showman's uncharacteristically small and defeated posture, Phillip realizes that he would say or do _anything_ to restore the man's vibrancy to him.

"They may not," he says, his heart easing its way, ever so cautious and timorous, onto his sleeve. "But, _I_ will."

A partnership is forged, that day, as they stand atop a pile of charred and smoking rubble symbolic of the walls that Barnum broke down in all of their lives.

Barnum, astonished and awestruck, at last regards Phillip as an _equal_ : his hand warm in Phillip's, grip firm, and his smile more radiant than the sun in the clear, cloudless sky overhead.

The rush of affection for Barnum that floods and swells in Phillip's chest, rising like a high tide, is unprecedented. Nearly alarming. But, Phillip is long past resistance and denial where P.T. Barnum is concerned.

It should come as no surprise, then, that at the first show after they've moved into the tents, while his gaze is fixed on Barnum, a burst of sound- rapturous, pulsing, bombastic, washes over Phillip.

Barnum's voice, sharp, impassioned, soars over everything else- the driving beat, the dramatic rise and fall of the chorus, and Phillip realizes with a sudden, gasping intake of breath, what it is that he's hearing for the very first time in his life.

_Music_.

This is _music_ ; the divine, infectious, pleasing, sonorous, potent, vivacious, uplifting, _incredible_ thing he has heard and read so much about. He recalls his mother and father taking him to concerts as a child, and the distinct confusion and emptiness that twisted within him when he looked around and observed that everyone else was enjoying something completely lost to him.

His world, back then, was shades of black, grey, and white. Cold, passionless, joyless, without a pulse.

Now, his world is inundated with splashes of more color than he could have fathomed; pink, green, rich oranges and yellows, shades of blue from powder to sapphire, purple, gold, and _red_. The most vivid and outrageous shade of red he has ever laid eyes on. And, with the color comes passion, pulse, joy, and _music_.

Barnum catches Phillip's eye, holds his gaze while informing the crowd, _It's everything you ever need_ , and Phillip grins, his insides trembling ecstatically and his heart _singing_.

Lettie's vocal riffs, powerful and earthmoving, ring throughout the arena over the swell of everything else as Barnum, much to Phillip's puzzlement, races out of the ring to meet Phillip in the shadows beyond the stands.

"This is for you," Barnum says, offering Phillip his signature top hat.

Phillip almost recoils at the shock drumming against his heart, pushing it into the bowels of his stomach. He eyes Barnum uncertainly, throat tightening under the sincerity and earnestness in the man's dark eyes and his smile. Spurred by that gaze, unwilling to let it falter, Phillip sets the hat on top of his head as Barnum expects of him, sliding his fingers across the firm and unfamiliar silk brim.

This feels _wrong_ , somehow. Entirely _wrong_.

The show is _Barnum's_. The audiences come for _him_.

"What will you be doing?" He manages to get out, hoping that there is no audible strain to his voice.

"Watching my girls grow up," Barnum answers confidently, obviously having given this decision some consideration. Just how much is unclear to Phillip, but Barnum seems so _sure_ of himself as he effortlessly tosses his ringmaster's cane to Phillip, who catches it despite a voice somewhere inside of him crying out, _No. This isn't right. Don't leave us, again. Don't leave_ me _._

Phillip lifts his eyes from the cane to Barnum's, feeling the world tilt under his feet.

"The show must go on," Barnum says, clapping a hand on Phillip's shoulder.

What Phillip hears is, _"Goodbye"._

He has no idea what possesses him to do so, but Phillip takes hold of the hand Barnum has on his shoulder and threads his fingers through the ringmaster's.

"Phillip?" Barnum questions.

"Don't go," Phillip murmurs.

"I beg pardon, what did you…?"

Remembering how his closed off emotions, his fear to boldly communicate what he truly felt, nearly ruined his relationship with Anne, Phillip stares into Barnum's eyes, unguardedly, and _pleads_ , threading his fingers through Barnum's, "P.T., don't _leave_. This circus doesn't- _I_ can't--" Speech fails him, words dissolving as quickly as they form, and Phillip's heart is _sobbing_ , now, his body shuddering and collapsing in on itself.

He doesn't want to lose the music now that it has come to him at last. He _cannot_ watch Phineas Barnum walk out on their family, on _him_ , a second time.

"You brought _joy_ into my life," he echoes his earlier words weakly. Tears prick at his eyes and his vision blurs. Everything is slipping away, and there is nothing he can-

The hand beneath his moves of its own accord, sliding up Phillip's neck to his hair, fingers curling into it.

Phillip doesn't dare to hope, cannot allow himself to.

Barnum picks up on his hesitation and, as always, rushes to eliminate it. He bends and his mouth covers Phillip's, kissing at Phillip's top and bottom lips until Phillip lets out a euphoric gasp and melts into him. Phillip kisses back with everything he has, arching up on his toes, guided by Barnum's hand. He tangles his fingers in the thick, silken waves of Barnum's dark hair, and the music crescendoes around them, a full symphony blasting beautifully in Phillip's ears.

Breaking off with tenderness, his teeth grazing Phillip's lower lip, Barnum swears, eyes pouring into Phillip, "I'm not leaving you. And, I _never_ will." His dark eyes shine as a relieved, blissful smile spreads across Phillip's face. "'If music be the food of love, play on'."

"Shakespeare," Phillip muses, nuzzling Barnum's cheek. "How _surprisingly_ cultured and poetic of you."

Barnum simply grins at the apparent sarcasm. "Far be it from me to stop the orchestra just as the concert has begun." As the meaning of his words sinks in, thrumming elatedly in Phillip's core, he closes his left hand over Phillip's right, which is still holding tight to the cane, and uses that hold to draw Phillip closer to him. Together, they emerge from the shadows, their voices intertwining as they take the center ring in a flourish.

The music plays on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
